


Just One Month

by spanglemaker9



Category: Just One Day
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 20:06:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spanglemaker9/pseuds/spanglemaker9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Willem opens his door and finds Allyson on the other side. What happens next....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just One Month

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I read a book or see a movie and it just gets under my skin in a way I can't explain. When that happens, nothing will exorcise it except writing about it. That's what happened when I read Gayle Foreman's Just One Day and Just One Year. I read them. I re-read them. I read them in tandem, toggling back and forth, matching up chapters in their timelines. 
> 
> So yeah... I had a lot of feelings. I had to write about them. This is that.
> 
> Fyi, I give absolutely no recap of either book, so if you haven't read them, you'll probably be very lost.

_ Allyson _

“Hello, Willem. My name is Allyson.”

After all this time—a year of searching, me and maybe him, too—he doesn’t say anything. Maybe he can’t yet. I’m surprised I can. For a few long moments we just look at each other. It’s not such a shock for me, since I saw him last night. But his eyes dance everywhere over me, as if assuring himself that I really am real and not a ghost.

Finally, he blinks and takes a step back, away from the door. It’s a silent invitation to follow him inside. I’ve come this far, so I do. I follow him in.

It’s a small apartment, but nicely furnished. Everything looks new, clean, modern. He must be doing okay. The vagabond I met last year wouldn’t live in a place like this.

I finish my quick survey of the room and turn back to face him. I have no idea what to say next, but I figure I’ll just jump in and see what happens. Like speaking French or going to Croatia. But I don’t get the chance to say anything.

Willem takes one large step and then he’s right in front of me. Then his hands are cradling my face and then he’s kissing me. It’s just like that. One deep breath and we’re here.

My hands flutter at my sides in shock, but then… oh, my God…. I forgot. It’s amazing. He’s amazing. This kiss…Before I know what I’m doing, my hands have found their way into his hair and I’m kissing him back. Something deep inside me—something tense and injured—relaxes. I’ve been carrying this pain for so long and I’ve gotten good at taking care of it in other ways. So good I almost forgot it was there. But it’s been there all along and now that I’m kissing Willem, I can feel the difference. There’s taking care of the pain and then there’s letting it go. I feel light, unlocked, free.

I don’t know how long it goes on. It hardly seems to matter. But then he’s kissing my cheek and my temple and my hair and my jaw just in front of my ear and he’s whispering.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

That breaks the spell. This isn’t why I came. I wasn’t looking for this. I’ve moved on and so has he. He’s moved on.

In a flash, I push back from him. All those things I’ve found out about him come flooding back in, erasing that crazy rush he made me feel.

“No.” I shake my head. “That’s not… I didn’t come here for that.”

“But you’ve been looking for me. You found me,” he says. His voice resonates along my nerves, like a song I used to know and haven’t heard for years.

I shake my head again. Jesus, is this how I got into trouble last year? He scrambles my wits in seconds. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, although all I can smell is him. I take another step back.

“Just… I wanted to see you. To tell you…” I trail off, because my grand epiphany at the airport sounds silly to me now. I’m going to tell this guy, this player, that he changed my life, changed who I am?

Willem reaches out and grabs my hand. His thumb unerringly finds my birthmark, as if he’s imagined this a thousand times. “I’ve been looking for you, too.”

I open my eyes and he’s staring at me with an expression on his face that I never saw that day, even though it felt like I’d seen every emotion cross his features. His eyes… they’re warm and alight, even though they’re so dark. I swallow, trying to keep my head on straight.

“I know you were. And thanks for that. It makes it… better, I guess. Easier. It wasn’t all me, at least not entirely.”

Willem grabs my other hand and he steps closer. “No, it wasn’t all you.”

I smile at him. It’s a little weak and tremulous. That kiss is still rocketing though my brain. But I’m okay. I’ll be okay. “That’s all I wanted. To know that. That day meant a lot to me. It made a big difference in my life. In a lot of crazy ways.” I glance down at my feet, struggling with the embarrassment, trying hang onto my courage. “And I’m really glad, because of everything that’s happened to me since then. So, thank you. For that day. For letting me be a different me.”

I start to pull my hands free of his, trying to take another step back, because close proximity to him is probably a terrible idea, but Willem doesn’t let go. He looks confused and his grip on my hands tightens.

“Where are you going?”

“It’s really okay.” I attempt another brave smile as I convince myself that it really, _really_ is. “You’ve moved on, too and you seem like you’re doing really well. You were amazing last night.”

Once again, his face shifts. He looks so incredibly pleased, almost bashful, when he realizes I meant his show. “You were there last night?”

I nod.

“Why didn’t you come find me then? After?”

I shrug. “I did. You didn’t see me. You’ve moved on,” I say, with a little more emphasis, so he knows I’m onto his situation. Instead he just looks more confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“The girl. I saw her with you. And it’s fine. Like I said, that’s not why I came here today, despite what just happened there.” I wave a hand between us to indicate that crazy, knee-melting kiss.

Willem laughs. God, his laugh. Another thing I hadn’t remembered quite right. I remember him laughing but I’d forgotten what the sound of it did to me. I’d forgotten how his whole face lights up when he does.

“Kate?” he finally says, still chuckling. “She’s not… No. She’s just a friend. Actually, as of this morning, I think she’s my boss. But anyway, no.”

“Oh.”

“I can’t believe you were there last night,” he says. His voice is soft and amazed. He’s looking me all over again, like he can’t believe I’m real. “I’m so glad you were. I really wanted you to see that.”

“Me?”

I can’t believe it even mattered to him that I saw his performance, or that it’s making him this happy that I did.

“You were important to it. More than you can imagine.”

He’s telling me that some part of that magic performance he gave last night was due to me? I can’t understand that at all.

“I can’t believe you found me,” he muses, stepping closer. I’m still re-orienting reality with my new information. Kate. He doesn’t love her. At least, not like I thought. So that means that kiss…

I don’t get any further with figuring it out because he’s kissing me again. Part of me is thinking I need to step back and sort this out first, but that part is rapidly getting shouted down by the other part of me, which really likes kissing Willem. This time his arm slides around my waist, pulling me in against him. I’d forgotten just how tall he was, how small he makes me feel when he’s leaning over me this way.

He’s tilting my head back, sliding his fingers into my hair, still kissing, kissing, kissing, and then... he stops.

“Wait.”

I lurch upright and blink. Of course. There are a million reasons we shouldn’t do that. I have my reasons and I’m sure he has his, even if Kate doesn’t seem to be one of them. He holds out his hand to me.

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Your phone,” he insists.

I fumble for a second and manage to produce it from my messenger bag. Then I realize that I’m still wearing my backpack, just the way I was when I walked in. I want to laugh at the ludicrousness of it. I hand him my phone, although I don’t know why he wants it.

He punches the keys until I hear a faint ringtone coming from his pocket. He fishes his out of his pocket and holds our phones up to me.

“There. I have you and you have me.”

That makes me laugh, even as something in my chest tightens at his words and the sentiment. He’s determined not to lose me this time. But he did. We lost each other. And it’s been a year. I’ve changed a lot and I have no idea about him. I’m opening my mouth to say we should talk when Willem looks down at his phone and scowls.

“ _Godverdomme_ ,” he mutters under his breath. Then he looks up at me. “I’m sorry. I was in the middle of calling Linus when you knocked. It’s about the show tonight.”

“Please, call him back. It’s fine.” Then I glance at my own phone at the rapidly advancing time. I do the quick math, calculating how long it took me to get here on the tram, and what time my flight boards, and I’m out of time. I need to leave now if I’m going to make it back to Schiphol in time. I’m still in a daze, still not thinking straight. “I need to get back to my flight anyway.”

“Flight? Where are you going?”

“To Croatia.”

“Croatia? Why?”

I shrug. “It looked warm.”

Willem drags a hand through his messy hair and exhales heavily. “Can you text whoever you’re traveling with and get on the next flight or something? I mean, you can’t just _go_.”

“I’m not traveling with anybody. It’s just me.”

Now a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You’re going to Croatia by yourself?”

“I went to Paris by myself. And I came here alone.”

He shakes his head in amazement. “I guess you got the hang of the traveling thing, then.”

I smile back, because I did, and I’m proud of it. “Guess I did.”

Then Willem turns serious again. He reaches out and grabs me by the shoulders and crouches a little to look me in the eye. “Don’t go. I know that’s crazy of me to ask you. A year ago I’d have probably just followed you, but now I can’t. I might be doing the show again tonight so I can’t leave. So I’m asking you… _please_ …stay.”

His eyes are so sincere, and it’s that same magnetic pull I felt a year ago in a London train station. That feeling I got with him that made me run off to Paris with him on a whim. After everything I went through, you’d think I’d be less susceptible to him, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

 _Do you need to resist?_ A little voice in my head is reminding me that it wasn’t what I thought in Paris. He got hurt. I can see the scar on his cheek to prove it. That’s why he didn’t come back for me. The doctor told me he wanted to. He went back to Céline’s to try to find me. But then I also remember Ana Lucia throwing me off her front steps, screaming about Willem cheating on her with some French bitch and I know that still barely know him, despite this feeling that I do.

“Please,” he pleads. “I want you to see the show again tonight. I want to do it knowing that you’re out there watching.”

Why can’t I stay? I was only going to Croatia for fun, something interesting to see before I fly home. I was going because I felt like I’d done all I could do here in Amsterdam, that there was no point in staying here any longer. But now there is, isn’t there? I have no idea what this is between Willem and me, but it’s clear now. Whatever it is, it’s not over yet.

So I nod and he smiles and it’s like the sun coming out.

“Here, take this off,” he says, pulling my backpack off my back and stowing it in a corner. “Let me just call Linus back and then we can talk. Sit down. Don’t leave!”

 

__

_ Willem _

I call Linus back and as the phone rings, I watch Lulu… _Allyson_ …shed her shoulder bag and wander around the flat. She keeps her back to me, looking at the pictures Daniel has hung on the wall and the odds and ends Daniel and I have both left lying around.

She’s here. Lulu is _here_. She found me. She looks different. Mostly the same, but different enough. Her hair is different, and her clothes. Before she looked young, sheltered, a little lost. That girl is gone. She’s been to Paris, Amsterdam, she was about to fly away to Croatia, by herself. The Lulu from last year would have never done that. I feel something like pride for how much she’s grown, but that feels patronizing, like she’s the only one who had to grow and change. I know for a fact how much I’ve changed this year. Because of her.

When Linus answers, I’m so distracted that I forget who I’m supposed to be on the phone with. No worries, though. Linus launches right in without me. He’s talking fast, about the patrons and buying out contracts and updated paperwork. I’m only half-listening, watching Allyson move around the room, afraid she’ll vanish at any moment.

“Is all of that okay with you, Willem?” Linus asks. At that same moment, Allyson looks back over her shoulder at me and smiles and everything else that might have been happening goes away.

“Yeah, fine,” I say, smiling back at her.

Linus rings off and I’m still standing there, smiling at her.

“Is everything okay?” she asks.

“Oh! Right. I’m on tonight.” That was the only pertinent piece of information I really wanted to know. There was more. Some patrons of the theatre company were there last night. They liked me. Loved me, really. They spoke to Petra. Jeroen has been bought out of his contract. I’m finishing the run as Orlando. It doesn’t matter. I’m sure it will tomorrow or next week. Some other time when Lulu hasn’t just walked back into my life. This is important to me and I really am happy about it, but I can’t think about that as I’m watching her poke around the kitchen Daniel and I just finished.

She looks right here, like she belongs. It’s not really my place, it’s Daniel’s, but she’s just dropped down into the middle of my life and in an instant, I know she belongs there.

It’s funny, a year ago in Paris, it was Lulu—Allyson—who knew. We both felt it, but she was the one who wasn’t afraid. She opened herself up to the possibility of loving me having known me for less than a day. Suddenly, and for the first time, I really think about what my disappearance must have done to her. Of course I’ve already imagined her waking up alone in the squat a thousand times. I know she must have been frightened and upset, alone, with no money and not speaking the language. I’ve already felt bad about that more times than I can count.

Now I think about how she must have felt once she was out of immediate danger. She found her way back to London somehow, and then home to America. And then? What did she think about me in those weeks and months that came next? After she had opened her heart to me, declared herself to me, given her body to me, and then I abandoned her. I can imagine the pain and it staggers me. And still she looked for me. I suspect she wasn’t always as okay as she seems now. Along the way she found out about the fight and the hospital so she knows. But does she know I left with my backpack, unsure myself if I would come back or not? And still she’s here.

She’s here, but she’s wary. There’s no denying what happened when we kissed, but she pulled away and I understand why. In her mind, I’m still a huge question mark. Funny, I’ve never minded letting myself be a mystery to women. I liked it. But now, for the first time, I want Allyson to be absolutely sure of me and I’m already facing an uphill battle.

“Sit down?” I motion to the couch and she does. I sit next to her. And even though we haven’t talked and we haven’t explained and we haven’t figured out anything, I reach for her hand. My thumb finds the mark on her wrist and I rub back and forth over it. She never told me how she got it. I’ll have to ask.

“You’ve been looking for me,” I finally say.

She nods and then she chuckles. “I’d given up, actually. A few days ago. I hit a dead end. The last dead end.”

“What happened?”

“I got my own letter.”

“ _You_ got the letter?”

She looks up at me. “You know about the letter?”

“Tor told me she forwarded it to me. But when I went to Utrecht to get it, it wasn’t there. I thought it was lost.”

“I got it in Utrecht. Yesterday, actually. Wow, it feels like a year ago.”

An electric shock runs through me. “You were in Utrecht yesterday? When?”

She shrugs. “In the morning? Ten, I guess. I had your address from the hospital in Paris, but you don’t live there anymore, of course. My letter was there, though.”

She gets up and goes to her backpack and comes back with a letter, the envelope torn open. I recognize Sara’s handwriting on the front, forwarding Lulu’s letter to the last address they had for me.

Allyson sits down again and rubs her hands down her thighs. “It seems silly, but knowing that my letter came that close to you… I mean, you did live there once. It seemed like it was a sign. I wasn’t going to get any closer. So I quit while I was ahead.”

I look up and smile at her. “I thought we agreed that you only quit when you’re losing.”

“I quit because there wasn’t anything left to find.”

But you’re here. How…”

She laughs. “An accident.” She tells a story about a girl named Wren, who she met in Paris, who has a list of things to do before she dies, even though she’s young and not dying. She tells me about a flower market and a trip to the greenhouses outside Amsterdam and the flower seller who just happened to be going to see _As You Like It_ in the park last night. An accident.

“I finally found you when I stopped looking.”

“I’m the same,” I tell her. Then I explain about Bex and hearing about the letter Tor had forwarded. I tell her about going to Utrecht yesterday to get it only to find nothing. And that’s when I gave up, too. My giving up is different than hers though. All along Allyson had a mission driving her forward. When she ran out of options, she gave up and let the wind guide her. And it blew her to me. When I gave up, I was giving up on drifting, choosing to act instead of react. We chose opposite paths and wound up in the same place.

Her eyes are wide. “You were right behind me.”

I run my hand up her arm, over her shoulder, curving my palm around her swan’s neck. “I was right behind you, Lulu.” I shake my head. “Sorry. I have to get used to Allyson.”

“I don’t mind. I can be Lulu to you. Just you.”

I smile. “Just me.”

I was trying to do this slowly, and give her space as we sort out this thing between us, but I can’t help it. I kiss her. She kisses me back. It lasts a while. It lasts until the front door opens and Broodje lumbers in.

“You asshole!” he shouts in Dutch. “Just because you’re a big star now you missed lugging all of Lein’s six thousand boxes of books up three flights of stairs.”

Then he actually looks around the room. He sees me, and Lulu sitting almost on top of me. She starts to wiggle off but I wrap my arm around her to hold her still.

“Oh, sorry,” Broodje says, a huge grin taking over his face. “Didn’t know you had company.”

“Broodje, this is Allyson.”

“Wait,” he says, slapping a hand against his thigh. “You were at the show last night. One of the Canadian girls. You came to the party then? I didn’t see you here.”

“I’m American, actually,” she says, at the same time I say “You talked to Broodje last night but not me?”

She looks back to me and shrugs. “I didn’t want to intrude.” Then she rolls her eyes and shoves at my shoulder. “You know what I thought.”

I laugh and we get lost for a minute, just staring at each other and smiling. It’s happened a few times. Then I realize that Broodje is still looking back and forth between us.

“Broodje, this is Lulu.”

His eyes go wide. “You’re kidding me. How did you find her?”

“She found me. I don’t know. Maybe we found each other.”

Broodje’s whole demeanor changes. He stands up straight and crosses over to us. He reaches out for Lulu’s hand and kisses it with a subtle flourish.

“I am so happy to meet you, Lulu.”

“It’s Allyson to you,” I tell him. He raises an eyebrow at me.

“Allyson. I’m very, very happy to meet you, Allyson. This guy,” he trails off and points at me. “Do you have any idea how much—“

“Do you want to go eat?” I cut him off, standing and pulling Lulu to her feet. I don’t mind her knowing what she’s meant to me, how she’s changed me, but I’d rather tell her myself.

Lulu laughs. “I’m starving, actually.”

“We have time to eat before I have to go to the theatre.”

“I suppose I’ll find someplace else to crash tonight, eh?” Broodje says.

“Um.”

Lulu looks away and blushes.

“Let’s go.”

 

 

_ Allyson _

Willem and I leave the apartment and walk a little way down the road to a café he says he eats at a lot. He’s holding my hand. He has since we left his flat. As we walk down the street together, hand-in-hand, our strides settling in to each other’s, I can’t ignore how right this feels. I felt that way before though, and I was so wrong. But maybe I wasn’t? I don’t know anymore. I came here so sure that I’d moved on and gotten over him. And I did in a lot of ways. But as soon as he touched me, as soon as we started talking and as soon as I heard him laugh, I knew he was still buried deep inside me. This is the stain. It never washes away, no matter how many tears you shed. No matter how long your eyes stay dry. The stain is still there.

If I’m still stained… if Willem is, too… what does that mean for us?

So far, it means we’re holding hands and kissing like lovers, and I still don’t know what we are. But I also know I don’t want it to stop.

We sit down at a sidewalk table at the café. Willem smiles shyly and hands me a menu, which I can’t read because it’s in Dutch.

“Do you want me to translate?” he asks.

“Just order for me. It’s okay.”

“I don’t know what you want.”

“I trust you.”

He looks up and our eyes lock. “Somehow I don’t think it’s that easy,” he says. But when the waiter comes, he rattles off a stream of Dutch and the menus disappear. Then Willem reaches across the table for my hands. It’s probably a good thing that we’re out in public. If we stayed in his apartment, all we’d do is kiss. Now, as he’s holding my hands, staring into my eyes, all I want to do is climb into his lap and kiss him again.

Willem turns my hands over and skims his thumb over my birthmark. “Tell me how you got this?”

“It’s a birthmark. I’ve always had it.”

“Really? I thought it was a scar.”

I shake my head. “Nope. No scars.”

He’s quiet for a moment, then he asks, “Your neck… did it scar?”

I look at him, remembering that night, everything that came after that cut, and I shake my head. I turn to the side to show him my neck. “All gone.”

“Hmm.”

“Was it those same skinheads?” I ask, pointing at his cheek. His eyes flicker down to the table and he looks embarrassed.

“Yeah. I mean, I think so. I got a concussion, so I’m not entirely clear.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“I wasn’t there to take care of you.”

Willem shakes his head sadly. “Don’t, Lulu. Don’t. I wish you had been, but I…” He trails off, looks away, scowls, looks back to me. “I don’t know what I was going to do. When I went out that morning, I’m not sure if I was coming back or not.”

I pretty much already knew that, but hearing him say it makes my throat close up and my eyes begin to water unexpectedly. Where is all this emotion coming from? I really thought I was over it. I guess I’m not. Some things you never get over.

Willem keeps going, leaning forward urgently. “I was just doing what I always do, letting fate decide for me, you know? And when I ran into those guys, for a second, I thought ‘There it is. I guess I’m not going back’. But then I woke up in the hospital and I knew…. that very second, I knew I had been so wrong. I knew I’d made a terrible mistake and I couldn’t fix it.”

Now I _am_ crying. Tears are streaking down my face.  I swipe them away but they keep coming. Willem reaches out and rubs his thumb across my cheek.

“But you found me, Lulu, and I want to fix this. I haven’t wanted anything in a long time. I wouldn’t let myself want anything. But now… I know what I want. I want you.”

I swallow hard, trying to control my breathing enough to speak. “I… I think I want you, too. But Willem, I’ve spent a year getting over you.”

He bows his head. “I know. I know. I’m so sorry you ever had to.”

“I’m not.”

He looks up at me, confused and a little hurt.

“It was hard, I won’t lie. It really hurt. But I wouldn’t have done everything I did if it hadn’t happened. It sucked. But it was just what I needed. That’s what I was coming to tell you today. Finally I can look back and appreciate the good and not just cry over the bad.”

He gives me one of those half-smiles of his, his expression a little sad and wistful. “I’m glad about that at least. But I’m still sorry.”

“It’s okay. I mean that. I’m okay.”

His smile grows. “You seem better than okay to me.”

How can I go from crying to laughing in minutes? But I do. My cheeks are still wet but now I’m laughing with him.

Our food arrives and in spite of all that heavy stuff we just discussed, the conversation is easy. He tells me all about how he ended up playing Orlando last night, about how he went rogue and played it his way, despite being told not to, and how it’s all worked out and now he’ going to finish the run as Orlando.

I shake my head in amazement. “That’s really great, Willem. Congratulations.”

He shrugs in embarrassment. “I fell into this a little bit, too, like everything in my life. But it’s made me realize what I want. Kate from last night? She helped me a lot with my audition and she’s the one who told me to go for it last night.”

I feel an unexpected surge of jealousy even though he’s told me she’s just a friend. But she’s beautiful and they now share this thing and I’m just some ghost from his past.

“She runs this little theatre company in the States,” he continues, as I chew my food and try to keep my expression neutral. “Well, she runs it with David, her fiancé.”

I’m almost embarrassed at the flood of relief I feel. Willem is oblivious to the war playing out inside me as he pushes his food around his plate. “I talked with her this morning and I’m going to work for them in the company, as soon as I finish this show.”

“Wait. Does that mean…”

He’s fidgeting with his fork, watching me in trepidation. “I’m moving to America. Brooklyn, she said. Please tell me that’s close to where you live.”

I feel stunned and weightless. I can’t even process what this means. “Not too far,” I hear myself say. “A few hours on the train to Boston. That’s where I go to college.”

Willem smiles, a smile to warm every corner of the world. “See? It’s fate.”

“I thought you stopped leaving it up to fate.”

“If fate wants to help me out, I won’t say no.”

We don’t talk any more about what this unexpected news means for us, we just finish eating, talking about a lot of little things. Willem pushes his plate away and leans toward me, hooking his foot around my ankle and playing with my hair while I finish my dessert.

I imagine this being my life all the time, back at school and Willem so close by. Maybe he’ll come up on the weekends and we’ll spend Sundays hiding in my dorm room while I finish my work and he studies lines. Or maybe I’ll visit him in New York and we’ll spend the weekend wandering the city, lying on the grass in Central Park and reading the paper. It’s the most alluring fantasy and it could be real. It practically _is_ real. We’re here together, and we’ll be together in America. It seems crazy.

I can’t imagine what everyone will say. This guy, the one who ditched me and broke my heart, back in my life. But suddenly I really don’t care. It might make no sense, but it feels so, so right. Maybe it will crash and burn and I’ll get hurt all over again. Or maybe it won’t. I won’t know if I don’t try. It’s like everything else—French class and working at the restaurant and flying to Europe alone—I’ll never get anywhere if I don’t try. I have to jump in, even though I’m scared, even though I have no idea what I’m doing or how it might work out. I still have to jump. Because something amazing might happen. I look at Willem, smiling at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and I think something amazing is _already_ happening.

We walk to the theatre in a happy daze. We’re still holding hands and touching in a million other ways. Our shoulders brush, and our hips touch. He pauses now and then to lean down and kiss me. That current that always flowed between us is up and running, practically vibrating with energy. I don’t want to ever stop touching him.

I have to when we reach the theatre and suddenly the idea of being separated for him for even a couple of hours, even by a few hundred feet, feels unbearable. I might have a panic attack. He seems to feel the same way as we linger by the door that leads backstage. He pulls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me, kissing the top of my head and rubbing his hands down my back. I clutch the front of his t-shirt and breath in his smell. It sets off some sort of buried Pavlovian response in my body and I feel like I might go out of my mind without him near me.

“I’m terrified to let you out of my sight,” he says with a nervous chuckle.

“Me too.” I’m beginning to understand what this will mean and it’s a little bit terrifying, to need another person so much. But if the alternative is to go on without him, then I’ll learn to live with my need.

“I won’t let you go twice,” he says quietly, ducking his head to press his temple to mine. “I’ll follow you. I’ll find you. No matter what.”

I can’t say a thing to that. I just sigh and lean into him, closing my eyes and absorbing this sublime feeling of perfect happiness.

“Willem?”

We pull apart enough to turn so I can see who’s talking to him. It’s the girl from the stage door last night, Kate. She’s smiling but looks slightly puzzled as her eyes dance to me and back to Willem.

“Kate! This is Allyson. Allyson, this is Kate, who I was telling you about.”

I reach out to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Willem gives Kate a loaded look. “She’s Lulu, Kate.”

Kate’s eyes go wide and she looks back to me with new understanding. That’s two people so far who Willem has told about me. It’s starting to feel like I’ve been some kind of quest for him and they’ve all been following his journey to find me. I’m flattered. It wasn’t something that just happened and stayed in his memories. He’s told his friends about me because I’ve mattered in his life. They seem to think so. I can tell by the way they react to me.

“Wow,” Kate says. “You found her. That’s amazing.”

“She found me,” Willem corrects, “And I’m not letting her go now that she did. Keep an eye on her while I do the show? I’m a little afraid to let her out of my sight.”

Kate laughs. “Sure thing. She can sit with me and David. I’m sure we have a lot to talk about.”

I like her already. I get the sense that she’s one of the few girls immune to Willem’s charm.

“You’d better get back there,” Kate says. “You’re about to be late for your call. That’s bad form. Time to start behaving like a real actor, since you’ve decided to become one.”

Willem rolls his eyes but starts letting me go.

“Wait,” he says, pulling his phone from his pocket. He raises it up and snaps a picture of me. “I’m not onstage all night. I want to see you.”

“Me, too, then,” I say, pulling out my own phone and snapping his picture. How fast we’re filling in the blanks, inserting ourselves into each other’s lives. Not like last time, when he didn’t leave a hint of his presence when he left.

“Here, let me take one of both of you,” Kate says. “This is a pretty momentous day, after all.”

I hand her my phone and Willem immediately pulls me into his arms, my back flush to his chest. He folds his arms across my chest and tucks his chin against my shoulder.

“I’m going to break the ‘no phones’ rule backstage so I can look at your picture whenever I want,” he murmurs in my ear and then kisses the side of my neck. I smile and melt into him.

“Okay, smile!” Kate says. We do and she takes the picture and hands my phone back to me.

“Come back here after the show. I’ll meet you,” Willem says, dipping in for one more lingering kiss that promises so much more. I watch him disappear backstage and fight down a sense of panic. He’s not leaving. He’s not gone.

“Come on,” Kate says, pulling me out of my paranoia. “Let’s go find David.”

If Kate’s immune to Willem I can see why when I meet David, her fiancé. He’s dark haired and dark eyed, gorgeous and magnetic. A guy you can’t look away from when he walks into a room. Kate certainly can’t look away. She seems pretty smart and no-nonsense, but she looks at David and something changes in her face. I wonder if I look like that when I’m looking at Willem. Is that what people look like when they’re stained?

We chat for a few minutes as people file in all around us and take their seats. Kate and David take turns telling me about Ruckus, their theatre company in Brooklyn that Willem is about to join. They talk like two people speaking as one. They seamlessly alternate sentences, sometimes finishing each other’s thoughts without a hitch. They’re both really enthusiastic about their company and Kate’s delighted that Willem is coming on board. I feel a crazy burst of pride that he’s about to become a part of it with them. It feels right. As right as him and me.

When Kate turns to David to point out something in his program, I take out my phone to see the picture she took of us. She took several, actually. The last one is the posed one, both of us looking at the camera, faces side-by-side and smiling. But my favorite is the one just before that. Willem’s arms are wrapped across my shoulders, holding me tight. I’m hanging onto his forearm. Our faces are turned into each other. He’s whispering to me that he’s going to look at my picture all night. He’s smiling, and so am I, and my _face_ … I’ve never seen myself look like that. I’ve heard people say someone looks radiant, but I don’t think I knew what that was until I saw this picture of me… of us. I’m glowing. This feeling, it’s practically… _radiating_ … out of my skin. Both of us, really. Our faces shimmer with it.

On impulse, I forward it in an email to Dee, with the subject line “WILLEM!!!” and nothing else. I smile, imagining his reaction when he opens it. I should tell others. Wren, Babs, and eventually I have to tell my parents everything, but not now. Not yet. Dee should know, though. He was the one who made me look for him and sent me here. He should know first that I found him.

I hesitate for a second, but then I scroll through my contacts until I find Willem’s name, where he programmed himself in earlier this afternoon. I text him the picture. A second later my phone buzzes with his reply, just one word. “Stained”.

I close my eyes and smile, clutching my phone to my chest, holding it tight where my heart is beating and fluttering, trying to escape and get back to him. This might be crazy, committing so completely and so fast, but I don’t care. My heart is already his. There’s no turning back now. There was no turning back from the moment he opened his apartment door, brought me inside and kissed me. Truthfully, there was no going back from the moment he sat down on that train to London a year ago. Not for me and not for him.

The show starts and then thankfully, he’s in front of me again. I can look at him and reassure myself that he’s real. Kate and David have their heads together whispering, because for them, this is business. I don’t mind because it means I can indulge in shamelessly staring at Willem. He’s so beautiful and it’s magnified on stage. He’s already so full of life and energy, but onstage it’s pouring out of him. He makes it impossible to look at anyone else. I wonder if maybe that’s just me, but judging from the rounds of applause he gets after every major speech, I don’t think it is. Willem is good. Scary good. Kate and David are both smiling, so it’s clear they think so, too. I’m so proud of him and excited for him. I can’t wait to see what comes next. In America. With me.

 

 

_ Willem _

Once I finally peeled myself away from Lulu and managed to get my brain focused on the show I was about to perform, I began to worry that last night was a fluke. Maybe everybody has one great performance in them and mine just happened, not to be repeated. Last night was easy. With Jeroen out and less than a day’s notice, no one expected anything much of me. Just show up and don’t screw up. But now people have re-written contracts and made commitments on the strength of that performance. What if I can’t do it again?

I’m in danger of spiraling into a full-blown panic attack when my phone buzzes. I look and it’s from an unfamiliar number. But it’s not unfamiliar. It’s Lulu, and when I look at the picture she texted me, for a moment my heart stops and I can’t breathe. The look on our faces… the _stain_.

That sublime sense of rightness settles back into me, filling every muscle and nerve. I have never in my life been more certain of anything the way I am about her. I type back the word without a thought or hesitation. I hit “send” and watch my declaration speed off into the void to find her.

By the time I’ve finished getting into costume, I’m calm. I’ve fallen into that same headspace I was in last night before the show. I know how to do this. It’s inside me, just waiting for me to turn it loose. Petra comes to find me and give me notes. She’s angry at her hand being forced, I can tell, but I really don’t care. She makes no mention of her directions from yesterday, or the fact that I completely ignored them last night, or that the company’s patrons came down on my side, casting off Petra’s choice for Orlando and putting me in his place. We don’t talk about any of that. She gives me a few technical notes about some blocking and one move they want to change in the fight scene. Then she leaves without another word.

Linus finds me next, and he’s full of praise for last night. I don’t listen to him either. There’s only one person here tonight I want to please and that’s Lulu, sitting out there in the audience somewhere.

I’m in a daze as we go through pre-show preparations, and then the lights come up and I step out on stage. I speak the first line and it feels like coming home.

 

After the show, I shed my costume and wash the makeup off like I’m racing a marathon. People from the cast try to corner me and talk but I slip free of everyone, repeating the words over and over again. “Sorry, I’m meeting someone.”

Marina follows me towards the stage door.

“Going out with friends?” she asks lightly, but I can sense the edge of her curiosity. I can’t be bothered though.

“Something like that,” I smile.

I’m the first person in the cast through the stage door. People have come to see me and congratulate me. I try to be nice but my eyes are scanning their faces looking for just one face. Just when my heart begins to beat a little faster with anxiety, I hone in on her, standing right beside Kate and David. Relief and euphoria war with each other, making me feel dizzy. Everyone else gets ignored. I stride straight towards her, reach for her face, pull her into me, kiss her. Her arms wrap around me and _now_ I’m home. After this past year, the simple act of walking out here and finding her waiting for me feels like a minor miracle.

What I want to do is take Lulu straight home, but David’s here. He came here specifically to meet me because I’m joining their company, so I can’t blow him off. I don’t really want to, because Ruckus is important to me. I just wish I had Lulu all to myself right now.

We go to a bar near their hotel for a drink. David’s really nice and they’re both friendly and familiar with Lulu. Kate makes some reference to something Marina did in the show and they both laugh, like it’s a little joke between them already.

At the bar, Lulu orders one glass of wine and sips it slowly, catching my eyes over the rim and smiling. I smile back, remembering that night in Paris when she was mad at me, slamming down glass after glass out of spite. But I also remember what came next and I want to crawl out of my skin with anticipation. I’m holding her hand under the table, our fingers threaded together, and I squeeze. She squeezes back. God, I want her.

Lulu’s patient while I talk business with Kate and David. She doesn’t even seem bored. Instead, she looks excited for me. I’m excited for me, too. Nervous, exhilarated, scared, but excited. And like the show tonight, when I think about Lulu sitting by my side, holding my hand, the fear goes away.

We exchange emails and make some plans for my arrival in New York and then Kate and David excuse themselves. David’s been traveling non-stop for days and he says he’s about to crash. Actually I think Kate can sense how badly I want to be alone with Lulu. We kiss each other goodbye on the cheek and she whispers in my ear, “Just like the show, this is no time for fate. You need to act.” I smile and whisper back, “Already done.”

Kate kisses Lulu goodbye, too, telling her she and David will have us over to their loft for dinner in the fall when she’s back at school.

Then they’re gone and it’s just us. I’m delighted until I realize that I don’t know the expiration date on this moment. I got her to cancel Croatia for me but when is she going home?

“When do you have to leave?”

She frowns. “My flight is out of London on Monday.”

One day. We only have one day. The irony of it staggers me a little, but I remind myself that this time, it’s only the start. We’ll be apart, but then I’ll be in America with her.

“You can’t extend?”

She shakes her head. “I promised Babs I’d work at the restaurant until I go back to school. She needs me.”

“Babs?”

“Long story,” she says. “I start school September second.”

“I have three more weeks of the show. And then a week, maybe, to get things set up for Daniel before I leave.”

“Daniel?”

“My uncle. That’s his flat I’m staying in.” Although I feel like Lulu knows every inch of my head and heart, I realize that we know very little actual factual information about each other. Of course, that was the problem all along. We have forever to learn it all, though. “Daniel is in Brazil with his girlfriend. She’s having a baby. When he’s old enough to travel, they’ll come back here. We’ve been fixing up the flat for them all summer.”

“What about you?”

I grin at her. “I’m moving to America, remember?”

She shakes her head, eyes wide. “I still can’t believe it.”

“A month,” I tell her. “And I’ll come see you in Boston.”

“One month,” she repeats, as if reassuring herself she can make it that long. I understand because right now I’m not sure I can.

“And just one day now.”

“One day.” I reach out and cup her cheek with my hand. “We’ll have to make it count.”

She smiles and covers my hand with her own, “We’re good at that.”

 

We head back to Daniel’s flat by the most direct route. I could take her by the boat, but I don’t. Maybe I will tomorrow during our day in Amsterdam, but the boat is my past and tonight is about our future. As we cross a bridge over the canal, Lulu pulls to a halt.

“It’s so beautiful,” she sighs. Looking up the canal, the bridges arch over it one after the other, lit up with twinkling white lights. The light reflects off the water and she’s right, it is beautiful.

She leans on the rail, looking down at the water and the barges docked along the edges. I grab the rail on either side of her, leaning over until my chest is pressed to her back. I kiss her neck just below her ear. I feel the tingle of contact all over my body. She sighs.

“Those barges are amazing. Do people live on them?”

“Mmm-hmm. I grew up on one.”

“You did?”

“I’ll take you there tomorrow and show you.”

I’ve spent so long running away from Amsterdam and the painful memories that lived here that I forgot for a while how much I love it. I can’t wait to show her my city tomorrow. I want to see it all through her eyes. But that’s tomorrow. This is tonight. I slide my hands up her hips to her waist and pull her back into me. She twists in my arms until we’re face to face.

“We only have one day,” she says.

I tilt her chin up with my finger and lean down until my mouth is just inches from hers. “We only have one day to start. We’ll have a million more after that.”

Our kiss is hungry, full of a year of missing and yearning. We hurry through the streets to Daniel’s flat and stumble up the stairs, twined around each other, kissing the whole way. Inside, it’s dark and empty. Bless Broodje for really leaving.

We don’t make it as far as the little yellow nursery where I’ve been sleeping, which is probably just as well. The couch serves well enough for the moment, as I rediscover the wonder of Lulu. It was good last time, but tinged with bittersweet, since it wouldn’t last. I was afraid to feel it too much, because it would only hurt more after. Ridiculous, really, because it hurt just as bad, either way.

Now, with our whole lives in front of us, I let myself sink into it, kissing her, touching her, learning every inch. As I hover over her in the dark, the moonlight coming through the window and illuminating the side of her face, her graceful neck, the perfect curves where her shoulder melts into her breast, all I feel is happiness, because I don’t have to say goodbye tomorrow. And the day after will only be a pause before we pick up where we left off.

Later, we do make it into the nursery, sprawling in a tired tangle of limbs on the mattress on the floor. I drag the sheet up over her bare back and let my fingers linger on her spine. She’s tracing patterns on my chest with one finger, propped up on her elbow looking down into my face.

My hand closes around her wrist and my thumb traces the birthmark on her wrist, which I’m coming to think of as my mark. The mark I left on her. It will never go away. 

My hand slides up and I find a scab on her elbow. “What’s this? Did you fall off your bike?”

She gives a rueful little chuckle.

“Not quite. I fell off your ex-girlfriend.

“What?”

“Ana Lucia. Well, I didn’t exactly fall. She threw me.”

_“What??”_

“In Utrecht, at your old house, they told me your girlfriend might know where to find you.” Lulu laughs. “Yeah, and it didn’t go so well. She really hates you.”

“I’m sure she does.”

Lulu goes quiet for a moment. “Did you cheat on her with Céline?”

“Is that what she told you?”

“No, but someone else told me she threw you out after she caught you buying tickets to Spain for you and a French girl.”

I laugh. “Nice to know Ana Lucia has filled in such an imaginative story for herself.”

“Was it Céline? It’s okay if it was. It’s not like I was around. I just want to know.”

“No. It wasn’t Céline. I told you that was ages ago. Ana Lucia saw one piece of a puzzle and filled in the whole picture. Incorrectly, as usual. The tickets were for me and Broodje, actually.”

“Why didn’t you just tell her that?”

“Because I was breaking up with her anyway. And she wasn’t entirely wrong. There was a girl, just not Céline.”

“Oh.”

“You.”

“Me?”

“You. And it wasn’t Spain. We were going to Mexico.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Because you told me your family went to the same resort in Mexico every year for the holidays. I thought…” I wave a hand in dismissal. “Never mind.  It was a stupid idea. We spent forever sneaking into those ridiculous resorts looking for you when there are literally thousands of people in each one. Hopeless. There’s nothing more depressing than spending New Year’s Eve alone in the middle of some massive drunken beach party with…”

“A Mexican reggae band.” Lulu’s eyes are huge in the dark. Shock ricochets through my system.

“You were there?”

She nods slowly. “Well, not really. The party was awful. Melanie wanted to go, not me. I left. I was down the beach near this bonfire. It was quieter…”

“And someone was playing _Stairway to Heaven_ on the guitar.”

She gasps. Every hair on my body stands on end. She was _right there_. As I floated in the ocean, looking at the stars and letting her go, she was a few dozen yards away from me.

“Willem…” she whispers.

I pull her face down and kiss her hard. “I love you.” Another kiss. “I love you, Lulu. I love you, I love you. Don’t ever disappear again.”

“I’m sorry I gave up on you that day. I won’t give up again.”

“You’ll never have a reason to. I promise.”

 

 

_ Allyson _

“Just one month.” My face is buried in Willem’s chest and my words come out as a muffled mumble, but he knows what I said because it’s what we’ve been saying for the last twenty-four hours. I’m leaving, but it’s just one month and then he’ll be in America and we’ll be together again.

A month. It’s nothing at all. Four weeks. And during that time, we’ll both be really busy. It will fly by. But still, a month with no Willem. It doesn’t make any sense. I went a whole year before. And that was after just one day. But after the last two days—the day I showed up on his doorstep and the blissful day we spent together yesterday—being apart for a month feels like a lifetime.

It amazes me how fast we’ve fallen into “us”. I’m not even questioning it anymore and neither is he. We both feel it. This is it. This is right. This is forever. I’m not wishing. I’m not hoping. I just _know_.

I know him so much better after just one day in Amsterdam together. Yesterday he told me about his father who died. He took me to see the beautiful boat he built, where Willem grew up. He told me about his mother in India, who’s been a stranger to him for a long time, although they’re doing better now. I’ve told him about my parents, my mother’s hopeless expectations, the major blow up when I “threw my future away”. I’ve told him about Babs and the restaurant and Dee and Professor Glenny, who will love Willem, I just know it. And we’ve filled in all the missing pieces of our year apart, told in snatches and anecdotes as we wandered along canals and sat in parks all over Amsterdam. We’re all caught up. Nowhere to go but forward.

And that’s what we’re doing. He’s going to go back and finish the run of his show, his first step into his new life. I’m going back to college, to explore a little more and see where the wind blows me. Wherever it is, I know it will be alright because Willem will be there.

He’s got his hands linked behind my back and his chin is resting on my head. We fit together perfectly like this.

People are streaming past me into the security lines and I know I need to go. We’ve delayed as long as possible. Willem took the train all the way to London with me just to eke out every last moment. But time is up and I have to go.

I raise my head and look at him. He cradles my face and kisses me.

“Call me when you get home.”

“It will be the middle of the night here.”

“I don’t care. I want to spend my night with you,” he says with that half-smile that slays me. I smile back and blush, because _oh, my God_ , our nights…

“I’ll call when I get there. I have to deal with my parents first, but I’ll call as soon as I can.”

“Right. Your parents. Here, take this.”

Willem produces my watch from his pocket and starts to put it back on my wrist. “No, that’s yours now.”

He looks up at me and hikes an eyebrow. “It’s ours. And you’re just hanging on to it until I get there. It’s part of my plan to win over your mother. Maybe she’ll go easy on me when she sees I kept your watch for you.”

I laugh. “That just might work.” My old gold watch feels heavy on my wrist after all this time. But not like a weight dragging me down like before. Now it’s grounding me, a reminder of Willem and all the hours and days and years we have ahead of us.

He raises my wrist and nudges the watch to the side. He presses a kiss to my birthmark and slides the watch back over it, sealing his kiss in place. “I love you.”

I reach for his face, pulling him down and kissing him. “I love you. Come find me.”

“I promise.”

I don’t cry. I won’t. This isn’t sad. I’m so, so happy. Aching at leaving him, but secure in his love, secure in our future. I let him go. He lets me go. Finally I back away and let myself get pushed into the security line.

When I look back, Willem is still there, watching me go. He smiles and raises his hand, then he rubs his thumb across his wrist. He’s showing me his stain, where I’ll live until we see each other again, where I’ll always live. I raise my wrist and kiss my watch. He’s there, too. My stain.

When the plane lifts off, leaving the urban sprawl of London behind, I do feel like I’m leaving part of my heart behind, but I also feel like it’s in good hands. I’ll be okay until he’s with me again. We’ll be okay.

I know Willem is done with fate, but I want to thank her. Fate threw us some curveballs, and things conspired to send us down very different roads. At a thousand points, one thing could have happened differently and we’d have kept traveling those separate roads forever. But that didn’t happen. Everything—even the bad things—led us both back to here and now. So I can only be grateful. Grateful for each trick of fate, each piece of luck, good or bad, each person who helped us, even if they didn’t realize they were. But mostly I’m grateful for each day, each hour, that I’ve known Willem, and also for all the days he wasn’t there, because they have all made us who we are, good on our own, but magic together. I don’t know what our future holds, but I know we’ll be together. I know we’re in love. And love turns accidents into miracles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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